


ashes, ashes (we all fall down)

by MidnightMoonWarrior



Series: A Continued Battle of TW Feels [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Derek just has issues alright, Gen, season one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-24 08:40:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/937920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightMoonWarrior/pseuds/MidnightMoonWarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knew this would happen, that trusting anyone, even Peter, associated with the fire and the destructive implosion it caused would lead to death on some level. Chaos follows chaos and perhaps that is the reason he tried to stay away, to not trust anyone. Not even himself. - Season One Derek Hale Character Inspection</p>
            </blockquote>





	ashes, ashes (we all fall down)

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this for a while, just never got around to finishing it until now. I have no idea if it's any good or not, hopefully you'll tell me.
> 
> Anyway, the concept is that snapshots of season one Derek Hale shows the evolution of him. Perhaps even give some rational into what might of been going through his head. That and well, I had to do something with all the Derek feels I have.
> 
> So, I hope you all enjoy. Reviews would be wonderful and so is constructive criticism.

_“The most terrible poverty is loneliness, and the feeling of being unloved.”  - Mother Teresa_

-

Silence was the original source of fear.

It was there at the beginning, flourishing when the humans came along, such poor things. So susceptible to the long fingers of it, the social nature of the species only elevating the playing field, if you could call it that. In its truest form, it embodied death and thrived on arguments and wars, always being there when overwhelmed faded to calm before falling to hypersensitivity.

Every creak and crack, the first sign of a situation about to go sour. Not death, nor pain, but the lack of anything, that was what made the skin crawl and the eyes twitch. A few moments of it was commonplace, used in conversation to let a meaning sink in, but after that it becomes awkward. Wait a few more moments, then the true colors started to come out. 

When asked, most people would say that they rather be deaf than blind, because what was the use of hearing when you could not see the threat? The answer, while common, did not take into account that the ones who answered had not been alone in it before.

Nothing but the sound of a heartbeat pounding in the ears; darkness circling its master and bending to its will as panic begins to set in. Searching for a source of anything is pointless, sound or light, because in the heart it is know that nothing is safe anymore. 

-

_Embers and smoke curl around, almost in a whimsical way, as sensitive hearing is rendered deaf and fear was introduced into his world._

_Perhaps it was the screaming or the faint shush of crackling wood, coming from the only source of light in the forest other than the full moon overhead, that caused their initial meeting. Him quivering as the last beams fell, the other faintly smiling; they both watch on as she bowed into the dirt after being kept out by the same line that had trapped in._

_In this moment, they both knew that he was the only one left, that physical embodiment did not equal survival. Only delay of the inevitable._

_Dying flames danced upon the fact that it had claimed another._

_-_

“His family, they all burned to death in a fire like ten years ago”

-

_It mocked him as the leaves raced past the Camaro, breaking out into a full jest when he entered the town limits of his former home, laughing when any hopes of banishing it had appeared bloody and raw, dead._

_He had known back then, that she would never last, but it still preyed upon that foolish side that had remained innocent to the fact that he would not be alone._

_Wide, glazed eyes told him nothing other than confirmation._

_He was at fault, for everything. The creaking wood, screams echoed throughout the area, and the ashes, covering everything. And it, it was here because of him._

_It was right all along, even now when it came closer and settled into his soul as truth._

_The first and last shovel full of dirt hurt the most; the first, on pure ironic chance, hit her in the fact and the last, packing the dirt level in a manner that did nothing to hide what was buried, meant there was no going back._

_It grinned as his muted footsteps lead into the shell of his home and heart._

_The door closed._

_-_

“You and me, Scott, we’re brothers now”

_-_

_Joy was not the exact word to be used, but something surged when he found out there was another. Veins closed off, turned black with the poisonous words of it, were cleansed and given new life, put to good use as he left it all behind. For now at least._

_There was something, someone to keep it back. He wasn’t alone. The boy was just a pup, foolish as he had been, but still it was banished._

_I’ll be back. A promise he hoped would never come to drag him back down. The burnt hell loomed overhead as he ventured out, to make contact and end the torture._

_Scott would keep it away._

_He had to._

_-_

“Yeah, thanks to someone who decided to make me the most wanted fugitive in the entire state”

_-_

_It laughs in his ear all the time, voluptuous and sinister as it observes all that he does. The pup is lovestruck with a hunter’s child and he can’t help but whimper at the implication of what seemed to be the curse of history._

_Repetition was not needed, not now or ever._

_He tries, oh how he tries to steer the kid in some other direction than towards the master of the darkness circling him. While the new wolf’s presence cleared his head, he still feels it on his skin like a mist of blood._

_It’s waiting for a mistake, for a footing to drag him under._

_Stubbornness is a trait that was not valued in his bloodline, but he uses it. Digs his heels in and endures the hardships that comes from the mistakes of the youth he just wants to keep alive.  Explanations are futile he finds because the barrier of understanding between a born and a bitten is just too great._

_He waits in the wings, lurks as some say, and attempts to keep the body count low._

_He stays, waiting, despite the obstacles thrown at him. Gritting his teeth, he endures being accused as an attacked, the yelling from the pup about leaving him alone, the pain in his chest when he asks for some kind of advice from his remaining blood and receives no answer from his burnt uncle._

_Waiting, because there is nothing else but home._

_Home is a fragment, a piece of glass smudged and smeared by blood and ash, but there is nothing else and he can’t leave it. Not now, not when there is a wolf reeking havoc, not when Scott is going to get himself killed._

_His eyes hold enough pain, though it disagrees. Burrowing into his leather shield, he goes back to watching._

_It seems to be the only thing he can do right._

_-_

“Aw, sweetie. That’s a lot of guilt to keep buried”

_-_

_Snarling did nothing to drown out the cheers of it. The one to draw it out of the cell, the walls he had built, had been its creator. The fiery evil that had laughed while creating it in her own image, before releasing it to kill him from the inside out; piece by piece._

_Kate._

_Even the mention of the name gave it strength, bringing tidal waves of memories of before it came to be. It burned, even more than embers that had come to land on his cheek that night, screams did nothing but encourage it._

_One wicked smile and a bullet, one of them he never saw coming. The part that was not in pain just added to it, but raving about how foolish he was to be captured, to be in the situation he was in._

_No one to help you now, it grinned, thinking it was back, never to be forced back in the cage. That it had won, stronger than he could ever be on his own. To think he had had help once, twice, but it had slipped through his fingers._

_A howl broke the facade, the illusion that was about to spiral into the dark._

_It disappeared with the sound, total domination held back just a little bit longer. Just a little bit longer, he scratched and clawed back into control; it retreated back to the cage, but there was no way to close it._

_Later, he internalized the note, now was to tell the world that he was still there._

_He roared back, on instinct and in hope._

_Scott._

_It was wrong. She was wrong._

_They were all wrong._

_He was not alone._

_-_

“You need to understand how much more powerful we are together; you, me, and Derek”

-

_There are others. It is no comparison to the pack that was his kin, if the diluted power in his veins is any example, but it’s something. For once in the last life that he’s lived, one of outcast and a mentality that screams omega to the sky, there is a fainter feeling of empty in his chest._

_It still circles and whispers the past of ash and fire in his ear, but there’s others. Not just one, but two, and even if one of them is on the verge of insanity with a plan he does not agree with, it hurts too much to even think about denying either access._

_Binding himself to them, a pup and a hollow fragment of family, is the only thing he can do. Losing either will bring it back, full force; he knows this so he tries, he tries to meld his makeshift replacement for the pack lost together. Even as he is present when one attacks, forces memories of the fire on the other, when he realizes that one of them killed Laura._

_He watches, horrified when it goes south._

_For once, he thought that it was finally going to go away, that it would fade back to wherever it had come from. That he could look to the present, the future without being dragged into the past. Knowing that things would go wrong makes no difference to a person who has been given a sliver of hope and he watches as he falls into the mistake of ignorance._

_He knew this would happen, that trusting anyone, even Peter, associated with the fire and the destructive implosion it caused would lead to death on some level. Chaos follows chaos and perhaps that is the reason he tried to stay away, to not trust anyone._

_Not even himself._

_With this, he hears the arrow fly._

_The irony of the situation, of the place they are at the sickening familiarity, of the Argents he knows are in the distance is left behind in his panic. By this point, it’s dragging at his coat tails, the shadow nearly raking it’s claws over his chest._

_It’s excited because it knows a panic attack when it sees one._

_He keeps it from showing, mostly, though who can tell as he tries to drag his last connection away from her, from the weapons and sadistic smile she wears. The fear that makes him push harder against the memories, the faint smell of gasoline, and her is not for him._

_He’s not worth it._

_His chances, his nine lives have been used too many times and the fact that he isn’t dead already is more of a curse than a blessing that his family wished upon him at birth. Mistakes and choices that were of his own free will have already doomed him and now, he almost wishes the arrow would strike him in the heart. Then it would be done._

_But he still moves, he keeps moving because just because he deserves this fate, of dying on the same ill fated plot of land that most of his clan are buried, doesn’t mean that Scott does. There is faint hesitance from the boy, who he refuses to let die because it’s what Laura would of done and he’s not letting his brother go down like she did. So he drags him._

_Blood drips down his skin from the punctures that just aren’t healing as they should, but he pushes his unresponsive body through the dirt with the other in tow. Becoming a shield was not an expected thing, but he accepts it and claws his way as far as he can before his knees give out._

_Even then, he uses any leverage he has and pushes the boy first. Voice hoarse, the words that come out are loud and tells to run. To flee, to leave him and never come back. This isn’t all said, but it has because there is a look back to him. It’s a split second thing, but it’s there and he knows he tried. It still hurts, to see his only connection to any form of pack normality on his own, standing to two hunters. But he tried, even as he drags his useless self away from the conversation to try and heal._

_The shadows give him cover, even while the thing grins at what is sure to follow, death. He’s shaking from fear, worry about the repetition of events. The slow burn in his chest, the ache throbs as Scott is saved by the arrival of numerous people, and the alpha._

_He watches and retreats back to the house._

_The door stays open, as he is not the focus anymore._

-

What is he, last of the Hale line, afraid of?

Nothing. It’s a lie but with everything else, what’s one more punch to the heart? It wasn’t fear, just the gnawing in the soul of the last thing that remained of the past. Guilt, anger, sorrow, and flames; it still ached, but after years it had become normal. They did not scare him, they did not shame him.

The mind is a funny thing, complex but crafty at the same time.  It had the tendency to ignore the simplest things and the ability to forget, while at the same time leave the corners shaded. Fears took refuge there, but not it. It just watched and waited of the moment to bring up the past, the present and the future.

It reminds him, drowns out the voice of the other wolf as he stands over the body of his only other family. The smell of burnt flesh made him gag before, and even now he flinches, though only slightly. There is begging, pleading of who will kill who and he ignores it.

Powerless was the defining term for the last years, the ones who kept him away and curled within the embrace of whatever distraction he could find. It roamed freely then, but now, now it cowers. It is silent in the face of what could, what should happen, he decides.

Reasoning is always easy for those who wish to take and he knows he is no different. Experience and knowledge is his, he knows more and with it, he could protect the lands of the town better than the pup could.

No one would have to feel fear, no one would have it leaning over their shoulder, grinning maniacally while watching every move. No one else would have to watch from the sidelines as life spiraled and died before their eyes.

Only he would have to wear that burden.

Fear is his companion, his to face. They watch the world together, tormenting him with the past and the future, which looks just as grim. Even though he wishes it to be differently, in the back of his mind he knows that he will be no better than the Alpha six feet from joining everyone else.

Yet he hopes, he hopes and let the knowledge of imminent demise be covered up. The skin of the neck, crusty as it is, slices easily with a spray of blood that he welcomes. Horror greets him as he looks up, the beta before him scared of what he has become.

_“I’m the Alpha now”_

He will build a new pack, one that swirling ash and fire won’t be able to touch, and Scott will thank him one day.

The moon high, It laughs.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> Please tell me feedback and I hope you have a wonderful day.


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